


But how much, baby, do we really need

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Baking, Bonding, Dinner, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, Pranking, Romance, Skye is competitive, So is Coulson, Team Bonding, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2631005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 02x07 fluffy and pretty dumb silly fic that is basically a montage/quick cuts about Coulson trying to cheer Skye up after all she's been through (and put up with from him).</p>
<p>Title from the Monkees' song Daydream Believer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But how much, baby, do we really need

After the details were squared away about Ward's continued creative methods of stalking Skye, Coulson decided that he had made up his mind.

Between him tossing her on the floor in his fevered state, the discovery she was probably an alien, and the knowledge that her father was a killer and working for HYDRA, it was time to take action.

He slid off his jacket and hung it on the hangar behind him before walking over to where he was and putting his fingers at the top of her laptop.

"I'm thinking, we should take the day off," he proposed, glancing up at her as he loosened his tie with his other hand. "That is, if you want the company?"

She sighed at him, but it wasn't a "no" or a "hey, I'm working on that!" as he pressed down and closed the machine.

"We're stuck on this base," Skye said, shrugging at him.

"How much fun could it be?"

  
***

"Mack," he said walking up to him in the hangar, Skye at his side.

"Director," Mack said, looking from one to the other.

"Remember when you mentioned that special project you wanted in on?"

"Yeah," Mack said, thinking back, then nodded, wiping the grease off his hands with the rag in his back pocket.

"It's time."

They walked into the back room off the main hangar and Mack turned on the lights.

Coulson looked over at Skye, then at the sheet covering the car and walked towards it, slowly pulled it back.

Bullet-riddled and broken, there sat Lola.

Mack watched Skye circle the car, running her hand lovingly over the bodywork.

"Oh, so you both have history," Mack said, glancing between the two of them.

"Like you don't know...," Skye said.

"Hunter did say something about you and Coulson and Lola."

"She saved my life," Skye said, looking teasingly over at Coulson. "Him, too."

Coulson smiled back at her. Mack thought it looked like a private smile, but he wasn't about to mention that.

"Needs some work," Mack began. "But, give it a little time and money, and she'll be good as new."

"We should get busy ordering the parts," Coulson said, putting his hands in his pockets, a new wash of guilt coming over him at the sight of her, he started to circumvent her, eyeing her from different angles.

Mack couldn't tell exactly, though, if he was checking out _Lola_ , or...

"Already looked into it," Mack said, reaching back to take a piece of paper off the nearby work bench. "Just waiting for the word."

"And now you have it," Coulson said.

He could tell by the tone he was being politely uninvited to the scene. The Director was now standing next to Skye and they were both politely but quietly staring back at him.

"Got it," he said, with a shrug and left.

 

***

  
"You're doing it all wrong, sir," Hunter said, as he walked up to Coulson and Skye standing and talking at the coffee machine.

"I'm sorry," Coulson began. "I didn't realize you were, in any way, a part of this conversation."

Hunter looked over the scowl on Skye's face and continued anyway.

"You should lean in slightly when you converse. _Like so_ ," he said, gesturing with his hand, and moving closer to Skye as she pulled away. "Body language conveys intent, very important."

He looked back and forth between them as they blinked back at him.

"You mean..., like this," Skye said, suddenly animated, turning to Coulson and looking into his eyes while leaning forward on the balls of her feet.

"Uh, exactly," Hunter said nervously, looking to Coulson.

But he was staring intensely back at Skye, leaning in towards her, little by little.  Just.  Enough.

"Then what?" Coulson asked Hunter, his voice low, gaze on Skye never wavering, their faces almost touching.

"Very funny," Hunter said, agitated, and turned to walk away.

They waited until he left the room before they both broke out into laughter.

  
***

  
"I am no good at this," she said, looking over at the measuring cups and the piece of paper printed out on the counter.

"You just measure and put all of it in the bowl," he said, exasperated, turning her around to tie the back of her apron tighter.

They were in the _kitchen_ kitchen. Which remained mostly unused at the moment. Their operation's current diet was Chinese takeout and pizza.

"This was _your_ idea," he said.

"And you said you wanted to help," she answered.  "You're sure this is an authentic English scone recipe," Skye said, watching him pour the eggs and milk out carefully into the measuring cups. "Because, Simmons is really picky about her scones. She'll know."

"It's the thought that counts," he said as a final word. "How is that coming along?"

"I'm measuring things," she said. "Don't interrupt me."

"Skye, this entire process should take about 30 minutes. I have other things planned."

"Like getting your ass handed to you at Call of Duty? I know," she said, sliding the knife across the top of the measuring cup to remove the excess.

"We'll see," he said, chopping the butter defiantly.

 

***

  
"Skye, I can't believe you're encouraging them!" Simmons said, plopping down on the chair next to the couch with a roll of her eyes.

"You're welcome," Skye said, moving the controller deftly with her thumb.

"The scones are lovely, though," Simmons sighed, balancing the plate on her knee while sipping her tea.

"That was all me," Coulson interjected, grimacing at what was happening on the 4-way split screen. "Skye just helped."

"Thank you then, sir," Simmons said, breaking off a corner to nibble on.

"And, I'm not encouraging them," Skye said to her, "I'm beating them!" She laughed a little, peeking at Coulson out of the corner of her eye.

"Mack, we've got to pull it together," Coulson said, getting serious, ignoring her. "Don't let her get to you. This is what she does."

"Tri-ang-u-lation," Fitz said, tapping his controller.

"NOoo!" Mack said, leaning back in his chair and throwing his controller down as Fitz and Skye high-fived.

"Yes!" Skye said triumphantly.  "Pay up."

Coulson rolled his eyes and stood up, getting out his wallet.

"Sorry," he said, looking over at Mack as the man shook his head.

"It's alright, sir. We'll work on it."

  
***

  
" _Mmm_ , that's good."

He was sure it was Skye's voice.

It was coming from behind the partition in the break room, as he pushed the inventory cart past.

" _Yeah_."

Coulson's voice, and it was a _husky whisper_! Hunter's eyes got wide.

There was a sucking noise.

Oh, he should give them their privacy, he should, he considered it, biting his knuckle.

"Tastes so good," Coulson said after a moment.

But he had to know, he had to.

He slowly peered around the corner to see Skye and Coulson staring back at him, orange wedges in their mouths.

"Hey, Hunter," Skye said, dumping her rind into the trash.

"Oh, good lord!" he said, turning on his heel.

He could hear Skye laughing so hard she almost sounded like she was crying.

And did Coulson just snort?

  
***

  
"What is going on with Hunter?" Bobbi asked. "He's more of a mess than usual."

"I dunno," Coulson lied, looking up from his desk, opening the drawer and shuffling through it.

"Aren't you going to ask how the field mission went?" she continued.

"No," he said. "I mean, not as Director. I took the day off," he said, finding whatever he was looking for and stuffing it in his pocket.

"It went fine. Still no sign of him," she said, crossing her arms.

"We'll keep looking," Coulson said, sliding the door shut and walking around the desk towards her.

"Heard you did some baking," Bobbi said, tipping her chin at him. "That a normal thing for you?"

"Do you mean, as, a man in general, or, as the Director of SHIELD?"

"You're making this way more complicated than it needs to be," she answered.

"Hunter has a birthday coming up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I do. Carrot cake. Cream cheese frosting. _No nuts._ "

"I will take your request under consideration," he answered, walking past her and out the door.

  
***

  
"Now this is how you end the day," Trip said, leaning back in the chair.

They were up on the roof with a bottle of scotch and watching the sun climb down past the horizon.

"We'll get back out there first thing," May said, eyeing Skye.

"No talking shop," Coulson said, leaning his head to look at her.

May rolled her eyes a little and glanced between him and Skye.

"Where did you put Phil Coulson?" she asked.

"It's been a full day," Skye said. "Winning and losing. Smiles and cries," she said, staring back at him.

He just smirked and shook his head, knocking back the rest of his scotch.

"I don't know what you guys did to Hunter, but he's a mess," Trip said, chuckling.

"Good scotch," May said, finishing her glass and staring out at the horizon. "I'm going to head back downstairs."

She stood as they watched her leave.

"Day off," Trip said, looking at them. "Guess you needed it, after all that."

"It's not over yet," Coulson said.

"Big plans for tonight?" Trip asked, grinning.

"What's left?" Skye said, looking over at Coulson.

"We haven't pranked anyone on Bakshi's call list yet," Coulson said, with a shrug.

Trip raised his eyebrows.

"What? It was May's idea."

  
***

  
Hunter heard the music drifting from up above. It was late.

There were voices and he saw the outline of two bodies embracing in the office beyond.

Slowly he took the stairs up and quietly slid along the walls.

The low voices were conversing pleasantly, perhaps that was even a giggle?

He peered stealthily around the edge to see Skye, in Coulson's arms as they swayed together.

And Coulson was smiling.  Smiling!

"I was about to say," Skye began, when her eyes met Hunter's.

Coulson turned and looked at him, dagger-like.

" _I knew it!_ " Hunter said triumphantly.

Coulson walked towards him and spoke over his shoulder to Skye, "You were saying?"

And shut the door in Hunter's face.

" _Git_."

 

***

"What's the key to?" she asked, putting her hands out in front of her.

"Keep your eyes shut," he repeated. "And trust me."

 She felt his hand on hers and the sound of a lock turning as he guided her forward.

"Step," he said.

"Great, another basement," she said, moving slowly.

"No cheap shots, please," he said.

"It would be so easy, though," she replied.

Through the blindfold she could see some traces of light in front of her eyes, that dimmed the lower the went.

Finally, at the bottom, his hand let hers go and she felt his fingers tugging at the knot of the blindfold.

Skye took a breath and looked up toward the light.

It was an old chandelier, dusty but still sparkling.

"What's this place?" she asked, turning around to look at the room.

"Old officer's dining hall," he replied. "I don't think anyone's been down here in years."

"Yeah, kind of spooky," she said, looking around at the red velvet curtains and cloth-covered tables.

"Just the effect I was going for," Coulson said sarcastically as he walked towards the table at the end which had a flickering candle on it.

She sighed back at him and followed after until they reached the table and she sat as he pulled the chair out.

He walked away and came back with a covered tray and put in on the table in front of her.

Biting her lip in anticipation, he slowly removed the lid, revealing...Kung Pao chicken takeout. On fine china.

" _Voila_ ," he said.

"You're ridiculous," she said, stifling a laugh.

"I was busy all day," he said, shrugging. "I didn't have time to make dinner, _too_."

She stood up and walked towards him. "I have no complaints."

"I brought beer," he added, apologetically.

Before he could keep talking, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked, swallowing.

"That, was for Lola," she said. "And this...," she said, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, and pulling him down into a kiss.

"Thanks," he said, with a smirk when they came up for air. His ears had turned a little pink.

"So," she asked, running her finger down his tie, biting her lip.

"What's for dessert?"

 


End file.
